I doubt that I will live long enough to understand why people get as worked up as they do about politics and elections.

By “worked up,” I don’t mean caring about the process and becoming involved in it, or putting one’s beliefs into action, because without those things we wouldn’t have elections, a diverse government that allows dissent and encourages differing ideas, or any of the things that make up the United States of America.

Besides, people seem to have fun doing it, and some of them are my friends. It’s hugely entertaining to listen to your buddies get beered up and argue politics — if all they are going to do is woof at each other, that is.

What I mean by getting “worked up” is hating someone you’ve never met or frothing with rage because someone is ignorant and unenlightened enough to disagree with you. (A wise man once said you should never argue with someone who is too stupid to realize that you may be right and he may be wrong.)

I decided long ago which presidential candidate I will vote for because of reasons that have more to do with things like a handmade American flag than with politics.

As far as I’m concerned, there are as many reasons to dislike the Republicans as there are to dislike the Democrats. It’s increasingly difficult for me to like either party — particularly in light of the current economic mess they collaborated on getting us into.

That said, there are elected individuals in both parties who seem more intent on representing their constituents and the public good instead of some special interest group, corporation or party dogma (which may be why most of the country never hears about them.) That part of the system still works better than most people realize.

I generally ignore anything derogatory either set of candidates says about the other unless it’s something hilarious that one of my friends has e-mailed me. One such item was photo of a handmade sign that says “On 10-3 (Candidate A) supporters trespassed and stole my (Candidate B) sign, violating my First Amendment right to free speech. Do it again and you will find out what the Second Amendment is all about!!!”

Recently, I heard on one of the cable news channels that women who live in the suburbs hate Sarah Palin. If they said why this was so, I missed it because I wasn’t paying that much attention at the time.

People seem more apt to hate or distrust Sarah Palin and Barack Obama than they do John McCain and Joe Biden. Why, I have no idea. However, they also hate or distrust certain TV news channels, commentators and newspapers, and that I can understand.

I asked Google why women who live in the suburbs hate Sarah Palin. The answers went along the lines of “Because she likes women who lives in small towns and hates women who live in the suburbs,” “She scares them,” “She’s too much of a right-wing Christian,” “She doesn’t support A Woman’s Right to Choose,” “She’s a racist who hates Eskimos,” and “They don’t really hate her because she’s a PTA mom just like they are.”

When I asked Google why women who live in small towns love Sarah Palin, I got answers like “She likes moose stew,” “She’s a working women, just like they are,” “They’re more patriotic (or Christian) than the people who don’t like her,” “She believes in The Right to Life,” and “They don’t realize she’s not really a small-town woman.”

At any rate, please don’t think you have to call, write or e-mail me to tell me why you hate or love Sarah Palin. I read our editorial pages every day, including the letters from people who either hate or love any of the presidential and vice-presidential or congressional candidates (and, for that matter, the Allegany County sheriff or the county commissioners, county police chief and county director of homeland security).

If my mother, Aunt Penny Broughton and Mary Calemine — who was in effect my second mom — were still alive, I could ask them what they think about the Sarah Effect. (I can guess what their husbands might think, and I certainly would agree with them.) They were three of the wisest human beings I’ve ever met and always were able to explain things in a way I could understand.

I could see Aunt Penny (my dad’s sister) as the governor of a state. When she spoke, people listened to her. She was beautiful and charismatic and had good sense and organizational skills. She also realized it was a bad idea to spend money she didn’t have. (That being the case, she might be elected governor of West Virginia or Alaska — but probably not Maryland, which instead of “The Free State” should be called “The Income Redistribution State.”)

Penny was an executive secretary with UNIVAC, the computer company that through a series of mergers and metamorphoses eventually became Unisys. When economic hard times hit in the 1970s, she and her boss were laid off. Before long, she was hired back, but her boss wasn’t, and she stayed on. Her employers realized what an asset she was.

The company had plants all across the country, and it launched a program designed to prepare its employees for retirement. They put my aunt in charge of it, she helped develop it, and she took it in person to the people who needed it. It was a major success because of her.

I think that’s pretty substantial stuff, considering that this was a time when many companies still hadn’t learned they could trust women with important jobs.

A good description of Aunt Penny would be that she grew up in a small town, had a vivacious personality and was gorgeous (she reminded me of Bess Myerson, who was Miss America), patriotic and of strong Christian faith, a working woman with executive experience who had two beautiful daughters ... and she wound up living in the suburbs.

If she ever shot a moose or ate stew made from one, I am unaware of it.